


Sterek Week Ficlets

by literaryoblivion



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [42]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Bottom Derek, Break Up, Breaking Up & Making Up, Domestic, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Lacrosse, M/M, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, One Night Stands, POV Alternating, Romantic Gestures, Sexual Content, Songfic, Sterek Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-05 21:17:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1832575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each chapter is a ficlet for each day of <a href="http://sterekweek.tumblr.com/post/89220096347/sterek-week-june-23-29-2014">Sterek Week</a> being held on Tumblr. Because the days vary, not all of the tags will be applicable to every chapter, so see the chapter notes for which tags are for that chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The System

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Sterek Week on Tumblr. Chapter 1 (aka Day 1 of Sterek Week) is loosely based on the Sterek Lego scenes for Day 1 of Sterek Week created by [TWALF](http://teenwolfandlegofusion.tumblr.com) which can be found [here](http://teenwolfandlegofusion.tumblr.com/tagged/day1). This was cross posted on tumblr [here](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com/post/89629319983/this-is-for-day-1-of-sterek-week-domestic-and-is).
> 
> Day 1 is Domestic.  
> Tags for this chapter are: domestic, fluff, established relationship

They have a system.

A system that has been worked out after years of arguing, debating, and getting to know each other, learning how to live and be together. A system that, although still not perfect, works for them just fine.

Derek and Stiles have been a unit for almost ten years now, have been living together for four, and despite how much Scott gags about it, are still madly, deeply in love. And, if Stiles is being honest, it is kind of disgusting how cute he and Derek are sometimes. He wouldn’t say they rival how Scott and Kira are, but they come pretty close.

But, Stiles wouldn’t change it for the world. He absolutely, positively, wholeheartedly _loves_ Derek, and he knows that Derek feels the exact same way about him. It’s a key part of why they’ve made this system work.

The system being that of their daily, domestic routine.

He and Derek both work, and sometimes one or the other has to stay late, so they always make sure they eat breakfast together, since it may be the only time they see each other that day.

They take turns cooking, although Stiles always cooks more vegetables than necessary when his dad comes to visit, and on certain occasions (like when they are too exhausted or it’s too hot to turn on the oven) they eat out or order for delivery. Derek insists on doing the dishes because he’s got a particular way of doing them. He is kind of anal about it, so Stiles has learned to leave Derek alone about it and only help when Derek asks him to.

When they get home from work or the days activities, they either curl up on the couch to watch television, or more often than not, Stiles messes around on his laptop while Derek lays his head in his lap to read. Stiles usually ends up running his fingers through his hair while he watches silly YouTube videos or reads emails from the pack out loud to Derek. Derek might insist that even as a werewolf it’s not like he’s a dog, but he sure does love getting his head/hair petted.

On the weekends they do various chores. Stiles doesn’t mind vacuuming or cleaning the bathroom but Derek hates it. He’s tried several times to insist that they have plenty of money to hire a maid, but Stiles gives him a bitch face, thrusts a toilet brush in his face and tells Derek to suck it up and clean the damn toilet. He does because Stiles told him to, but he hates every minute of it. He’s sure that once they have kids (because they have started talking about that now that they’ve been together for so long and both have stable jobs) Stiles will see the benefits of having a maid. But, until then Derek will reluctantly help clean with Stiles. 

The one chore they hate doing is laundry. It got so bad one time that they couldn’t even get to the garage because the piles of dirty clothes in the laundry room was blocking the way. To ensure that never happens again, they make it into a competition. Or sometimes, they spend almost the entirety of laundry day half naked having sex.

It’s a wonder they ever hated laundry after that.

At the end of the day, when they are sleepy and tired, they both climb into bed, the world around them quiet and dark, kiss each other good night, and fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

Sometimes Derek will wake up in the middle of the night to readjust the covers and pull Stiles in closer to his chest. He falls back asleep listening to the steady, comforting beat of Stiles’s heart, feeling the soothing warmth of his body pressed against his, and thinking of how good his life is now with Stiles.

Because some days he’s amazed that Stiles chose him, that they are able to work through whatever issues arise and be better for it. Because some nights he counts the moles on Stiles’s back instead of counting sheep. Because he absolutely, positively, wholeheartedly _loves_ Stiles, and that will never change.

He and Stiles have a system.

And it _is_ perfect because it’s theirs.


	2. When Time Stops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he sees Derek go down, it’s like time stops and he can see nothing else.
> 
> Everything slows down, even his thoughts, so that all remains in his head is “Derek!” and “NO!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for the 2nd day of [Sterek Week](http://sterekweek.tumblr.com/post/89220096347/sterek-week-june-23-29-2014) on Tumblr. This chapter was cross posted on tumblr [here]().
> 
> Day 2 is Near Death Experience
> 
> The tags for this chapter are: Angst, angst and fluff, near death, near death experiences, alternating POV.

When he sees Derek go down, it’s like time stops and he can see nothing else.

Everything slows down, even his thoughts, so that all remains in his head is “Derek!” and “NO!”

He has time to think that this, this might be the worst moment of his life, right next to his mom’s death and when the nogitsune wearing him shoved a sword in Scott’s body.

And this? This is near the top.

~

Ever since the nemeton got turned on, which sounds wrong and dirty but is the truth, things have decided to show up and try to run the place. They’ve gotten used to it now, and thankfully the normal citizens of Beacon Hills turn a blind eye to any strange happenings (plus the police force does a good job of rewording things and keeping the pack aware of suspicious activity).

Of course it’s always calm before a storm, and after a month goes by with no incident, Stiles gets suspicious.

Turns out his instincts were right, and some werewolf mobster type decided to make Beacon Hills his smuggling hideout, what with all the abandoned warehouses and all.

The police are a big help in tracking him down because he’s wanted not just for supernatural-related crimes but for some pretty major federal ones. The pack gets wind of a new shipment and decides to take action before they get the official okay from the cops (they kind of have to since they are technically citizens).

It’s then, when they have shown up, surrounded by more supernatural creatures and humans than they had planned on, that they figure out what exactly this werewolf mob boss is smuggling.

Along with the drugs and guns, it’s all kinds of foreign strands of wolfsbane and mistletoe, and ammo and bullets made of silver or filled with wolfsbane, knives dipped in various poisons. He’s been selling to hunters for years, and the drugs and various low-grade weapons were his cover-up.

Basically, they are in way over their heads.

~

It’s chaos all around him. A panicked call to his dad, sent the cops on their way, but in the meantime the pack is having to face down all the henchmen themselves.

He may be human, but he knows how to fight, and while he was taking on some douche with a knife, everyone else was battling people of their own.

Most of the supernatural creatures can’t handle the smuggled weapons or even go near some of the crates (it’s why the mobster had gotten so many humans working for him), but Lydia and he can. They try their best to use that ability to their advantage, but it’s difficult with everyone around screaming and fighting and attacking.

But as soon as he and Lydia have victoriously shifted a few wolfsbane-ladden crates enough to have them affect their enemies, Stiles looks up to see Derek take a lethal blow to his back by the head werewolf mobster himself.

“DEREK!” he screams, and he can’t even hear Lydia yelling for him to stop as he runs to Derek. He dodges between everyone else, barely misses a knife coming straight at him, because all he can see is Derek, blood and black goo flowing from his mouth and his back, kneeling on the ground, waiting for gravity to take effect and bring him down the rest of the way.

He has to get to him; he has to get to Derek.

It seems like it takes forever to get to him, but in reality, he gets there so fast that the head werewolf doesn’t suspect him, and is taken by surprise when Stiles stabs a kanima-venom-soaked blade in his side. He roars and takes a swipe at Stiles, but it’s not enough to cause real damage.

Stiles doesn’t even watch the guy fall down motionless as the poison takes effect. He rushes to Derek’s side, holds him up so he doesn’t fall over.

“Derek, I’m here. It’s okay, I got you.” He’s not sure if Derek is even conscious enough to understand him, but he says it anyway, probably more for his own benefit. His eyes scan Derek’s body, and it’s bad, it’s so bad and he doesn’t know what to do.

“Derek? Come on, big guy, stay with me.” He cups Derek’s face with one hand, his other gripping his arm, like if he holds on tight enough Derek won’t leave him. He can feel tears start to drop from his eyes, unbidden.

Derek’s eyes flutter open briefly, and Stiles gives him a smile. “Stiles?” His voice is barely audible.

“Yeah, it’s me. You are such an idiot, trying to take on the boss alone. That was so stupid, Derek.” His voice cracks, and he hates that he’s getting so emotional right now when he should be strong for Derek. It’s what Derek would do if their roles were reversed.

Derek laughs, or tries to, but it makes him start coughing and hacking. Stiles pats his chest, trying to calm him down.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just… next time wait for me, okay?”

The man nods. “I… I’m sorry, Stiles.”

The tears are freely flowing now. Stiles shakes his head, sniffing. “Stop apologizing, Derek. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re going to be fine, and now you know for the future.”

Derek smiles, but it’s more of a grimace. He leans more into Stiles, so Stiles is taking more of his weight.

“Sti— Stiles, I…” Derek tries to get the words out, but his breathing has become more shallow and labored, and he can barely keep his eyes open to look at Stiles. It’s breaking Stiles’s heart, and he can’t bare to see Derek like this, like he’s lost all hope and is trying to say his goodbye.

“Shh… Derek, it’s okay,” he says pulling Derek into his chest, pets his head, runs his fingers through his air, trying not to freak out when they come away bloodied and sticky with blackness.

“Stiles, I lov—” Derek starts to say, but he coughs again and can’t seem to stop.

“Derek, you shut up, you hear me. Don’t you dare say something like I love you right now. I cannot handle it. You can tell me later, when you are alive and not bleeding all over me.”

The coughing stops. “Derek?”

Stiles pushes Derek away enough to see his face. His eyes are closed, and it doesn’t look like he’s breathing.

“Derek?!” he says, a little more desperate, shaking him a little. “Derek? Don’t do this to me. You can’t die, okay? You can’t. You never listen to me, but right now you have to, okay? Don’t die. You hear me, Derek? Don’t...” His voice gets quiet, and he’s sure his face is red and tear-streaked, but he doesn’t care. “Derek? Der—Derek, don’t leave me. I need you.” He takes a shaky breath, pulls Derek into his chest again, and whispers, “I love you, too.”

***

He’s not sure how long it’s been, but when he opens his eyes, it’s stark white ceiling tiles that greet him. He can hear the steady beeping of machines next to him, and he can feel tubes and needles in his arms that his body is trying to push out. Only, they’re taped in, so it can’t.

He turns his head to one side and there’s a window, the blinds pulled shut, the sun barely shining through the slates. When he turns his head to the other side, he smiles when he sees a familiar head of brown hair leaning over the railing. Stiles is asleep, he can tell, and he has no idea how he’s able to sleep in the most uncomfortable positions.

Slowly he lifts his hand to pat his head, and Stiles snorts awake.

“Wha—?” Stiles says as he shoots up in his chair, head swiveling back and forth, like he’s looking for danger. A few seconds later when he is more awake, his eyes focus on Derek, and his face splits in a wide grin. “You’re awake,” he says like it’s a miracle, and to be honest, it probably is.

“So are you,” Derek says because he can’t think of anything else to say.

Stiles rolls his eyes and stands from his chair to leave over Derek’s bed. “How’re you feeling?”

“Alive,” Derek grunts out.

Stiles snorts. “Better be after everything we did.”

Derek quirks an eyebrow, his face a look of concern. “What did you do?”

The teenager sighs. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. What’s important is that you are alive.” He brushes the hair covering Derek’s forehead back, and it’s such an innocently tender move, that Derek is overwhelmed by it.

“Thank you,” he says. “For nothing, then.”

Stiles bursts out in bright laughter, and it’s such a beautiful sound that it makes Derek smile. Stiles leans in closer, traces a thumb over Derek’s lips, his smile.

“I like this look on you. You should smile more often.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

“So…” Stiles says, his face so close to Derek’s that he can see the bags under Stiles’s eyes (god he must have spent all his time here with Derek), see the moles that dot his skin, feel his breath.

“So.”

“I know you just woke up, and you probably have a lot of questions, but… I have one for you first.”

“Okay?”

“Do you remember what you were going to say to me before you… you know, almost died?”

Derek pretends to think about it for a moment, but he knows exactly what Stiles is talking about. “Yes.”

“Did you, uh… want to finish that statement?” Stiles’s eyes look big and hopeful.

“Maybe.”

Stiles softly hits him in the shoulder with the back of his hand. “Fine, jerk. It was probably ‘I love ice cream’ anyway.”

He starts to pull away, but Derek wraps an arm around his waist to keep him close. “Yes, Stiles, I used what I thought was my last dying breath to tell you I love ice cream,” he says, deadpan.

“I knew it.”

“You are such a spazz.”

“Yeah but you love me.”

Derek smiles, pulls Stiles’s face to him by his chin. “Yeah. I do.” Stiles’s eyes widen slightly, and his cheeks blush. He looks beautiful.

Derek tilts his head up, and Stiles meets him the rest of the way and they kiss. It’s soft and tentative, chaste even, but perfect. It’s their first, and it doesn’t need to be more than that. He can feel Stiles smile against his lips before he pulls away.

Then all of the sudden, Stiles punches him in the arm, hard.

“Ow! What was that for?” Derek says, rubbing his arm on reflex, his brow furrowed as he stares at Stiles in confusion.

“That’s for almost dying on me, asshole. Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

Derek chuckles as he pulls Stiles in again by the back of his neck. “I’ll try not to.” Then he kisses Stiles again.

“I love you, jerkface,” Stiles whispers against his lips.

“I love you, too.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles are co-captains on the lacrosse team, and they absolutely hate each other.
> 
> Or do they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Day 3 of Sterek Week: High School AU. Loosely based on [this manip/AU idea](http://akissforabite.tumblr.com/post/83546334693).
> 
> Applicable Tags for this chapter: Alternate Universe- High School, Lacrosse

"If you had any athletic talent, you would have been able to score that goal!"

"Yeah? Well if you weren’t such an ass, Derek, and hogged the ball all practice, maybe I could have!"

"I wasn’t hogging the ball, first of all, second of all, that doesn’t even make sense, Stiles!"

"You don’t make any sense!"

"GUYS!" Scott screamed. Both Derek and Stiles turned to him to glare. Scott gave them a sheepish smile. "Why Coach made you two co-captains will forever confuse me," Scott mutters it under his breath as he turns to gather his things from his locker.

"What’s that supposed to mean, Scott?!" shouted Stiles.

Scott sighed. “You guys hate each other.”

"So?" asked Derek like what was the point.

"I don’t know, maybe if you guys hung out more outside of lacrosse, you might like each other more, and then it would help you communicate better on the field? You know help the team more?"

"What?" Stiles said, in shock at his best friend and his reasoning. Because what the hell was he suggesting?

"Actually, Scott makes a good point," Derek said, making Stiles turn his shocked gaze from Scott to him.

"What," Stiles said in a flat tone.

"I think you and I should get to know one another. We’ll start small. How about you come here tomorrow after school, and we’ll do a little one on one practice." Derek gave him a smug look.

"Fine." Stiles grit out through his teeth. He turned to give Scott a dirty look, and Scott looked genuinely sorry, which sort of made things better.

Derek purposefully bumped Stiles’s shoulder as he moved past them to his own locker to get his things. He gave one last look back at Stiles and Scott before he left the locker room all together.

“Dude, I am so sorry. I didn’t know he was going to make you do practice. I just thought maybe you should like sit together at lunch or something,” Scott said, laying a hand on Stiles’s shoulder as he picked up the rest of his school things and slammed his locker shut.

“No, buddy it’s fine. I would have rather not had to run around on the one day Coach doesn’t make us practice, but maybe it’ll be good.”

“Do you want me to watch? Make sure you two don’t actually kill each other?”

Stiles gave him a grin. “Nah, dude, it’ll be fine. Besides, don’t you have to go into work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but Deaton would understand.” The two of them walked out of the locker room and out of the school towards the parking lot.

They stopped in front of Stiles’s Jeep. “You need a ride today?”

Scott shook his head and thumbed at an old beat up car a few feet behind him. “Got mom’s car today cause she’s sick. Are you sure you don’t want me to referee tomorrow?”

Stiles gave him a smile and patted him on the back, “No, but thanks, buddy. You’re the best.”

“Alright. Let me know how it goes I guess. Good luck.”

They exchanged their special handshake and then parted ways.

~

The next day after school, Stiles dragged himself to the locker rooms. They were empty, not even Coach was around. Stiles went to his locker, taking out his lacrosse gear and practice clothes from his bag before shoving it into his locker.

He had just barely removed his shirt to change when strong arms wrapped around his torso and a warm body pressed against his back. He smiled to himself when the person gave him a small kiss on his neck.

“Hey there,” Stiles said, turning around in their arms. He smiled up at Derek, who was smiling just as wide to him.

“Hi,” Derek said, leaning in to give Stiles a kiss on the lips.

He backed Stiles up against the lockers, and they continued kissing, running their tongues along each other’s lips and inside their mouths. Stiles’s arms came up to hug Derek’s shoulders, and slowly his hands found their way up into his hair.

They pulled away for a breath, and Stiles nuzzled Derek’s cheek with his nose.

“You know,” Stiles said, “we will have to actually practice. Scott’s going to ask and I can’t lie to him.”

“Hmmm, I know. Although you could just tell him I rode you hard and technically that wouldn’t be lying…” Derek said, lewd smile growing on his face.

Stiles smacked him in the chest. “I don’t even know why I like you.”

“You don’t, remember? We hate each other.”

“Oh, right.” Stiles pulled Derek in for another dirty kiss.

“Do you want to practice before or after sex?” Derek said, pulling away before they got any further.

“Ugh. Before. I’d be too tired after, you know that.”

Derek grinned, “I know… it’s why I was hoping you’d say after so we wouldn’t have to.”

“You are such a terrible captain.”

“So are you.”

Stiles stuck out his tongue and then pushed Derek away. “Go on, get your stuff. We’re spending at least ten minutes on the field before you sex me up.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Derek said with a wink, picking up his lacrosse gear and walking out to the field.

~

Let’s just say Stiles and Derek had quite the workout but it wasn’t out on the field.

~

“So, how’d it go? You’re alive, that’s good,” Scott asked the following morning as they walked to the class they shared.

“Yeah. Actually, I think it helped? We came to agreement on some things, and we might actually hang out a little more? So, yeah, thanks for the suggestion, Scott.”

Scott gave him a grin, and it made him look like a happy puppy. “Good. That’s great! I think you guys should really spend time together, maybe you’ll figure out that you like each other afterwards?”

“You know, Scott, I think you might be right, buddy. So very right indeed.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles walks out on Derek during a fight, seemingly gone for good. Can Derek win him back?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is SO late I'm sorry (I was on vacation and then had to move). But yeah this is for [Sterek Week](http://sterekweek.tumblr.com/post/89220096347/sterek-week-june-23-29-2014) which is totally over, but whatever I'm still writing these, so there.
> 
> Uh this is for Day 4: Breakup/Makeup
> 
> Tags that apply for this chapter: Established Relationship, Break Up, Breaking Up & Making Up, Romantic Gestures, Angst, Fluff and Angst

When it happens, it doesn’t even seem real to Derek, and he almost can’t breathe. He hates that he let himself get comfortable, that he is being blindsided when normally he’s constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. But he hadn’t expected this. At all. He has no idea what happened, what went wrong, what he said, what he did, what he could have done to fix this, to have this not happen.

But it’s too late.

When Stiles walks out and slams the door shut behind him, taking a suitcase full of his things, Derek collapses in a heap on the floor because his entire world is crashing down around him and he’s drowning, gasping for air.

Stiles is gone. He is out of Derek’s life. Forever.

~

He and Stiles had been together ever since the near death werewolf mafia experience during Stiles’s senior year of high school. They had taken things incredibly slow, mainly because Stiles was still in high school, and his dad was the Sheriff. But after he had gone off to college, had as much normal, teenage, college life-experience as he had wanted, Stiles came back with eyes only for Derek.

After that, things sped up considerably.

Derek followed him back to college after that first year; by Stiles’s third year of college, they had gotten an apartment together, and by the time Stiles graduated and found a job, they were an unquestioning, solid unit.

They fought of course, but they always had, and neither of them had really been in a relationship this long and figured, that was normal.

But, then again, maybe it wasn’t?

Supernatural creatures and occurrences still happened, and they both had to help, or come to the pack’s rescue every now and then. It was after these supernatural run-ins that Derek and Stiles fought the most.

Deep down they both knew they yelled and argued about how stupid and idiotic the other was because they cared about one another, but one or the other was going to get fed up about it someday.

And it happened. It was Stiles, and he was so done.

~

“I’m not just some poor defenseless human anymore, Derek! I know what the hell I’m doing!”

“No. You. Don’t. You don’t think before you throw yourself in, and I’m tired of having to rescue you because you can’t stop to fucking think first.”

“Are you fucking serious? _You’re_ the one who just throws yourself in without thinking because you’re a self-sacrificing asshole you doesn’t consider that maybe other people have better ideas or can handle the situation better.”

“ _I’m_ the self-sacrificing asshole? Let’s talk about who it was that jumped in front of that dagger two weeks ago even though there were three other _werewolves who heal_ right there!”

“I-- you know what, that’s it,” Stiles sighs out, walking to their bedroom. Derek follows him and watches as Stiles ducks into their closet and comes back out with a suitcase and several of his clothes.

“What are you doing?” Derek asks even though he can see for himself that Stiles is throwing clothes from his drawers into the suitcase on the ground.

“What the hell does it look like, Derek?” Stiles doesn’t even look up to answer him, just continues to yank drawers out and throw his clothes into the suitcase.

Derek can’t even think of what to say or do because Stiles has never done this before. They’ve argued and shouted and screamed, yes, but in the end they’ve apologized, had amazing sex, and fell asleep wrapped around each other.

Stiles has never left though. In the middle of a fight, no less.

He stares after Stiles who goes into their bathroom and takes out his toothbrush from the cup and his razor and tosses it into his toiletry bag, the one he uses when they go back to Beacon Hills to visit.

“Why?” Derek asks, tears forming in his eyes while he watches Stiles, more resigned than angry now, put the toiletry bag in his suitcase and zip it closed.

“I can’t do this anymore, Derek.” Stiles’s voice breaks, like he’s on the verge of tears too, and Derek so badly wants to comfort him, to pull him in close and tell him it’ll be okay. Only he can’t. Because it’s not okay.

“Do what?” Derek says, and he’s still angry because he’s covering up the pit of sadness and despair that is growing in his gut at what is unfolding before him.

Stiles shakes his head and sighs. “This, Derek,” he gestures between them. “This fighting and arguing, and you not valuing me or yourself. I can’t do it anymore, Derek. I’m tired of the yelling. I’m tired of trying to prove to you that I love you, that you’re enough.”

Derek balks because where the hell is this even coming from? They had been arguing about something completely different. Since when does Stiles feel like he has to prove he loves him? He knows Stiles loves him. He’s always known that.

“You don’t have to prove that. I know you do.”

“Do you? Cause I don’t think you do. Every time you decide to take on something on your own, without me, without the pack, how do you think that makes me feel, Derek? It’s like you don’t trust us, or me, like I haven’t… that I’m not worthy yet. So when I try to prove it, you shoot me down, and you yell and you scream, and I just… _I can’t do it anymore, Derek_.” Tears are freely flowing down Stiles’s cheeks, but he stands, resolute, suitcase in hand.

“I don’t… I _do_ trust you. Stiles, I love you. You know that.”

Stiles shakes his head, moves forward so he’s standing a few feet from Derek. “It’s not enough to say it.”

“What the hell does that even mean?!”

Stiles thins his lips and lets out a forceful breath. “Goodbye, Derek.” He shoves past Derek out of their room and into the hall, grabbing his keys from the hook by the door.

“That’s it? You’re just going to leave. You’re not even going to explain what the fuck you are going on about?” Derek shouts, chasing after him.

“Are you being this obtuse on purpose?! I’ve _been_ explaining. You haven’t been fucking listening,” Stiles yells back, unlocking the front door and swinging it open.

“I’m a fucking werewolf, Stiles. I have the _best_ hearing possible.”

“Why don’t you say that a little louder? I don’t think our neighbors across the street heard it! And just because you can fucking hear the sound of a fly a mile away doesn’t mean you actually _listen_!”

Derek growls and balls his hands into his fists. “Where are you even going?”

“Away!”

“Good! See if I care where you go then.”

“Fuck you, Derek,” Stiles says, not as loud as before, like it pains him to keep yelling and shouting. And with that he steps out and slams the door behind him.

Derek stands in shock at the closed door. He strains his ears to hear Stiles on the other side, to see if he’ll come back. All he can hear is his slowly fading footsteps down the stairs, his rapid heartbeat fading in the distance, and the quiet sniffs and sobs that Stiles lets out as he leaves. He can just barely make out the sound of Stiles’s jeep engine turning over and then driving away. And then he hears nothing else.

~

After Derek comes back to reality, he calls and texts Stiles, but of course they all go unanswered. His voicemails range from angry to distraught to sad to distant. Two weeks or so of not hearing anything from Stiles and no one else telling him where he is (Scott had asked him to stop calling and to leave Stiles alone, and the Sheriff had told him he was sorry but he couldn’t help) goes by, and Derek can’t think of what else he can do.

So he stops.

If he could, he would get completely wasted, but he’d have to drink an entire liquor store for that to work, and that seems like a waste of money. So he wallows around his apartment, eating the foods he hates but Stiles loves, going through pictures on his phone and on Facebook (Stiles hadn’t deleted him yet) of them when they were happy and together. He replays their fights over and over in his head, especially last one, trying to see what he missed, trying to pinpoint where it went wrong.

He doesn’t shower for days, and most nights he runs in the woods as a wolf for hours until instincts take over, so he doesn’t have to think about human things. Can let the wolf take control of his thoughts and let it run free in the wild.

Scott shows up at his door at the end of the month, looking sad, and when he sees the dirt and leaves in Derek’s hair when he opens the door, Scott’s frown deepens.

“I… uh… came to see how you were holding up,” Scott says.

“No you didn’t. That was a lie.”

Scott sighs and his shoulders slump. “I came to get the rest of Stiles’s things, but I did want to check on you.”

Seeming to accept this, Derek stands aside to let Scott in. The apartment is a disaster. On one of his anger-fueled nights, he had torn apart the place, slashing and breaking furniture, and then didn’t bother cleaning it up. Scott’s gapes at the scene as he surveys it all.

“What?” Derek asks, defensive.

Scott shakes his head. “Nothing.”

It’s another lie, but Derek ignores it and throws himself on the half-broken couch. When he lands it cracks, and one of the leg snaps so that Derek is slanted forward, his legs the only thing keeping him sitting on the couch. He tries to sit that way and adjust, but the couch breaks more and Derek lands on his ass on the floor with a thud.

He’s pretty sure Scott would be laughing if this whole situation wasn’t so sad and he didn’t look so pathetic. He hears Scott let out a heavy sigh, and then he feels strong arms under his, pulling him up.

“Come on,” Scott says, pulling Derek up, taking his weight as he drags Derek to the bathroom. He leans Derek up against the wall and turns on the water in the tub. He gestures for Derek to get undressed before stopping up the drain to let the tub fill up, and Derek obeys. He hesitates when he gets to his underwear, but Scott shrugs, like it’s up to Derek to decide but Scott won’t care either way. They’ve seen each other in various states of undress before, so it’s not like he’d be embarrassed, so he takes them off and climbs into the tub and sits, swishing the water a little when he does.

It’s warm, just nearing on the edge of too hot, but it feels good. While they wait for the tub to fill up more, Scott carefully removes the leaves and twigs from his hair, throwing them away in the trashcan nearby. He stands and opens the cupboards until he finds a washcloth and wets it under the running water before turning the faucet off. He lathers up some soap in the cloth and runs it over Derek’s shoulders, his back, his arms, wiping off the dirt, and sweat, and tears that stain his skin. He takes his time running water over Derek to let it wash away the soap, and the bathwater starts to get murky and soapy because of it.

“Why are you doing this?” Derek asks.

“You’re my friend,” Scott replies like it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

“You’re Stiles’s friend.”

Scott nods. “I did this for him, too.” He uses the cloth to wring water out in Derek’s hair to wet it before squeezing shampoo in it.

“How… how is he?”

“He’s… he’s hurting. Probably just as much as you. I think if Stiles were a werewolf, my apartment would be just as trashed as yours is.”

Derek chuckles at that, but it quickly turns into sobs. God, he misses Stiles so much, and just hearing about how he’s doing, how upset he is, just makes everything hurt worse.

Scott shushes him and pulls him towards the edge of the porcelain to wrap his arms around his shoulders for a hug. He continues to shush him while he rinses out Derek’s hair, and Derek lets the tears flow, doesn’t try to keep them in.

The water has gone cold by the time he’s let everything out, but Scott hasn’t moved, has stayed near the edge, patting Derek’s hair, rubbing his back, through it all. Derek sniffs, rubs his nose, then shifts away from the edge.

“Ready to get out?” Scott asks with a small smile. Derek nods, and Scott smiles again, wider this time. He reaches for the large towel on the rack and hands it to Derek when he stands up. “I’ll take these and start a load,” Scott says pointing to the pile of dirty clothes Derek had left in the corner when he had stripped.

Derek nods in understanding and Scott gathers up the clothes and leaves the bathroom. Derek unplugs the tub to let the water drain, and slowly he dries off, rubs the towel--Stiles’s towel as it turns out--across his body. He tries not to think of it as Stiles’s though or else he’ll break down again, and he’s already cried so much today that he doesn’t think he can muster up anymore tears.

He listens to Scott putter around with the washing machine and in the kitchen as he gets dressed, and it’s soothing, comforting. When he emerges, the broken furniture and debris is in a pile near the front door, and Scott is loading the last of the dishes in the sink.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Derek says waving a hand at the pile.

“I know. But I wanted to, and it needed to be done.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

For the first time that day, Scott looks mad. He breathes out hard through his nose. “I’m not pitying you, Derek. I’m your friend, and I’m helping you.”

That isn’t a lie, and Derek’s shoulders relax and some of the tension eases. “I… thank you,” Derek says quietly, finally.

“You’re welcome,” Scott says, the corners of his lips turned up slightly. “You hungry? I can order a pizza? Your fridge is pretty empty, and the stuff in the freezer looks kind of questionable.”

“Yeah, pizza’s good. I can order it, though.”

“Okay,” Scott says, shutting the dishwasher and turning the dial to start it. Derek calls in their pizza order, and he and Scott take the broken things out to the dumpster while they wait for it to be delivered.

By the time the pizza arrives, the apartment looks a little more livable, although it definitely has less seating now. He and Scott eat in a comfortable silence on the floor, the TV on to some show neither of them are really paying attention to. Scott leans back on his hands and lets out a satisfied sigh; he looks over at Derek and grins.

“That was good pizza,” he says.

“Yeah, it’s one of Stiles’s favorites. He likes their sauce.”

Scott gives him a sad smile, and Derek can’t stand to look at it so he turns his head to look away.

“Derek, I--”

“I know. You’ll be wanting his things now so you can go. I haven’t… I started to gather… but I couldn’t…”

“Derek, I don’t want to take Stiles’s things.”

“But, you said, you said that’s why you were here.”

“I was, sort of. But, I don’t want to do that. I don’t like seeing you guys apart like this. The happiest I’ve seen Stiles is when he’s with you, and the happiest I’ve seen you is when you’re with Stiles. And now you’re both apart, and you’re both miserable and absolutely a nightmare to live with.”

Derek scowls at that. “Well, Stiles is anyway, so I’m just assuming the same goes for you too.”

“I don’t want you to take his things either,” Derek mumbles, but Scott can hear it.

“Then you should do something to get him back.”

“Like what, Scott?” Derek says, frustrated. “He won’t return my calls or texts. You wouldn’t even let me talk to him even though I know he’s staying with you. How can I get him back when I can’t even talk to him?”

“He might… He might let you now. He was still mad at first and angry and he made me swear to keep you from him. But, I think that now he’s just sad and he misses you.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Derek hangs his head in his hands, and Scott pats him on the shoulder.

“Flowers, chocolates, whatever, man. It’s Stiles. You know what he likes. You… you still love him, right?”

Derek’s head snaps up to stare at Scott. “Of course, I do. I’ve always loved him.”

Scott smiles at that. “I know he loves you too, so you guys can make it work. I know you can. You just have to try. I think… I think that’s what he wants. He wants you to try.” Scott slaps him on the back again and then uses Derek to push himself up to stand. He picks up the empty pizza box and the trash and walks to the door. Derek stands too and follows.

“I’ll take this out and throw it away for ya,” Scott says, holding the pizza box up.

“Thank you, Scott. For… thank you.”

Scott smiles wide. “Of course, buddy.”

“What are you going to tell Stiles when you go home without his things?”

Scott shrugs. “I’ll tell him you weren’t home or something.”

Derek nods and holds on to the door when Scott opens it.

“You can fix this. I know you can,” Scott says before reaching out to squeeze Derek’s shoulder. Derek doesn’t quite believe him, but he can’t hear a lie in Scott’s words, so Scott must believe them. And maybe that’s enough? “I’ll see you around, Derek. Oh, and Stiles will probably be at my place for next couple weeks, and I’m gone most evenings. Just you know… FYI.”

Derek snorts. “Thanks.” Scott gives him one last smile and walks out of the apartment.

Once he’s out of sight, Derek shuts the door and turns around to lean against his door. His eyes wander around his slightly cleaner but not really that much better apartment. He lets out a long breath and gets to work, cleaning what mess there still is and making a list of things he needs to buy, furniture he needs to replace. He makes another list of things he needs to do better, what he needs to tell Stiles or get Stiles or do for Stiles.

Because Stiles can’t come home to a disaster: apartment or Derek.

~

After a week, he has done every romantic gesture he can think of. He’s sent flowers and candy and chocolate to Scott’s apartment every day, he’s left notes and letters stuffed in the mailbox and slipped them under the door, he’s put post-it notes with all the things he loves about Stiles all over Stiles’s jeep, and even replaces the tires while he is at it. He has Stiles’s favorite pizza place deliver his favorite pizza and another with a heart made of pepperoni on it. He’s had a bakery send every kind of Stiles’s favorite flavors of cookies and cupcakes, and he even told Scott to force Stiles to listen to a certain radio channel because got the DJ to dedicate a song to Stiles for him.

He’s called and texted Stiles everyday too, but while Stiles’s phone doesn’t go straight to voicemail this time, he still won’t answer.

The second week, Derek gets really creative. He googles for ideas, even asks Scott and the Sheriff and the rest of the pack for some too. Even though he completely sucks at it, he paints pictures of all the significant places in he and Stiles’s life: the Sheriff’s police cruiser, Deaton’s clinic, the Beacon Hills High School pool, the elevator in the hospital, the carnival they went to where Derek had asked Stiles to move in with him, their apartment. He writes poems about Stiles or him and Stiles that talk about how much Stiles means to him, how important he is, how much he loves him and trusts him, how sorry he is for screwing it all up. He makes homemade baked goods using recipes he finds on pinterest, and he leaves them on Scott’s doorstep because he’s too afraid to knock and wait in case Stiles is the one that answers.

He calls and texts again too, and he doesn’t get a response till after he leaves the tupperware of homemade snickerdoodles:

**The snickerdoodles were good. Save that recipe.**

It’s not exactly what he would have hoped for, but it’s something. It’s a start.

~

The next week, he kind of doesn’t know what to do, he’s run out of ideas, and he’s done every romantic gesture he can think of. So he goes simple.

He sends pictures to Stiles of things he would like, or that make Derek think of him. He sends him links to articles that Stiles would enjoy, or things that Stiles would think are funny.

He calls and leaves voicemails that describe their dates and significant moments, or even funny memories: the first time they said I love you, the time the Sheriff almost walked in on them, the time the Sheriff did walk in on them, the time that Derek almost died, the time that Stiles almost died, the time Derek took him to see his favorite band, the time Stiles took him to see his favorite artist’s exhibit, their first home-cooked meal in their apartment, the times they had sex in every room of the apartment, the first time they made love, the first time they woke up next to each other, snuggled in close and wrapped around one another.

The first time Derek realized Stiles made him feel at home, when he realized that Stiles was the one he always wanted to wake up to, that he wanted Stiles next to him for the rest of his life.

At the end of the week he calls Stiles again, expecting to leave another voicemail, only this time, Stiles answers.

“Derek.” It’s not mad or angry, or even resigned. The way Stiles says it, it sounds like hello, hopeful and hesitant almost, and Derek realizes it’s the first time he’s heard Stiles’s voice in almost two months.

“Stiles,” he says in a breath because hearing Stiles say his name after so long is overwhelming.

“Hi,” Stiles says, and it almost sounds like he’s smiling.

“Hi.”

Silence.

“Stiles?”

“Yes?”

“I… I’m sorry.”

Derek can hear Stiles sigh over the phone. “I know. I… I am too.”

“I miss you.” Derek can’t help the way his voice breaks.

“God, Derek, I miss you so much.” Derek’s heart breaks when Stiles’s voice cracks just like his did.

“Come home, Stiles. Please?”

Stiles sniffs. “Okay.”

A flood of relief washes over Derek and he smiles. “I love you, Stiles.”

“I love you, too.” Then Stiles hangs up, and Derek waits.

Fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock on the door, and when Derek opens it, Stiles is on the other side, suitcase in hand. He doesn’t even have it open all the way before Stiles is throwing himself into Derek’s arms and Derek is squeezing him tight against his chest, kissing his face, his hair, any part of Stiles he can reach.

Stiles finally lifts his head up to meet Derek’s lips with his own, and the kiss they share is deep and passionate and overwhelming. It leaves them both breathless.

“I’m sorry,” Derek says again, between kissing along Stiles’s jaw.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Derek pulls back from Stiles, cups his face into his hands. “We’ll work on this, yeah? We’ll make us work? We’ll fix it? Because, Stiles, I can’t… I can’t do this again. I can’t lose you again.

Stiles nods his head, his eyes wet. “Yes. I want this to work. I want us to be together. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you either, that’s why I got so--”

Derek shushes him. “I know. I know, but we’ll do better. We’ll--I’ll get better at communicating.”

“I suck at it too, you know,” Stiles grins, pressing his cheek more into Derek’s hand.

“We’ll both work on it.”

Stiles locks eyes with him, and smiles. He leans forward and kisses Derek. It’s slower than before, sweeter, more intimate, more meaningful, full of promise.

“I love you, Derek Hale,” Stiles says against his lips.

“I love you, Stanisław Stilinski,” Derek says before kissing Stiles again and lifting him up to carry him to their bed...

...where they spend the majority of the next week.


	5. Stay With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s tried. He’s tried to have other one night stands, but they’ve ended early, or they turned into a messy blowjob or handjob in the back alley or bathroom of the club.
> 
> But tonight. Tonight was different. And the guy was different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to bump up the rating for this one, SORRY. So this is for Day 5 of Sterek Week: Based on a Song (again oops sorry it's so late). It's based on the song [Stay With Me by Sam Smith](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pB-5XG-DbAA&feature=kp).
> 
> The rating for this chapter is Explicit, and the tags are: One Night Stands, Sexual Content, Explicit Sexual Content, Bottom Derek, Songfic, and Alternate Universe-Human

He never does this. He doesn’t. But tonight. Tonight he needed it, and now, he doesn’t want it to end.

He’s tried. He’s tried to have other one night stands, but they’ve ended early, or they turned into a messy blowjob or handjob in the back alley or bathroom of the club.

They never ended at his apartment, in his bedroom, in his sanctuary.

But tonight. Tonight was different. And the guy was different.

So different and wonderful and perfect, and Derek wants him to stay.

~

He had a rough day in general. It was the anniversary of when he’d lost his entire family, and he couldn’t focus on anything. It’d been several years, ten actually, but it still hurt. Everything still hurt, birthdays, anniversaries, holidays.

The last thing Derek wanted to do that morning was go to a club to find someone to hook up with, but when evening came that’s exactly what he ended up doing.

He couldn’t sit at home and read or watch TV, and it’s not like he had many friends, tried not to have many if he was honest. Ever since the fire, he’s had a hard time trusting anyone.

So when he got to The Jungle, his plan was to drink, possibly get a messy makeout or handjob in the bathroom and go home to cry himself to sleep.

But then he saw him, and maybe it was something about his face, or his attitude, or his warm smile, but Derek started pouring out his soul to this brown-eyed stranger.

And it made him feel better. He hadn’t talked about anything that personal with anyone in years, not even the therapist he was required to have the first few years after the fire.

He expected the guy to run, to tell Derek that he was hot but so not worth the sob story, but instead he listened. He nodded his head, held Derek’s hand, and let Derek tell him everything.

Stiles was unlike anyone he’d ever met, and he’d told him so much more about him than anyone before, so it wasn’t even a surprise when he asked Stiles to come home with him.

The surprise was when Stiles said, “Of course. Let’s go.”

~

When they finally got in the apartment, Derek expected something quick and rough, something just shying on painful that would help him forget.

But what happened was the exact opposite.

He asked if Stiles wanted something to drink, and Stiles asked for a glass of water. They drank water in silence, only broken when Stiles commented on how nice his apartment was, or how sparse the furniture was.

Derek found himself making a joke about how his bed was the most comfortable furniture he owned, and Stiles laughed and smiled. It made Derek’s heart skip to see it. Then Stiles was taking Derek’s glass out of his hand and setting it on the counter before moving into his space, asking Derek to show him because he had to see for himself.

Derek nodded, and Stiles smiled and then cupped Derek’s face before leaning in further to kiss him.

It wasn’t dirty or heated, something that meant it was leading to sex and that’s all, but it wasn’t chaste and sweet either. It was something in between, something like hope and passion and it made Derek’s heart swell with the feeling because how could he have something like that with a stranger?

Stiles pulled away from the kiss and stepped back to allow Derek to show him the way to his bedroom. He laced their fingers together and pulled him along, Stiles eagerly following.

They took their time undressing each other, admiring every inch of skin and muscle that was revealed. They couldn’t stop touching each other either, and Derek was surprised at how self-conscious he was feeling every time he saw Stiles’s gaze rove over his body. The whole scene wasn’t frantic or hurried, neither of them rushed to rip each other’s clothes off, and Derek was overwhelmed by it, of this playing out exactly the opposite of how he thought one night stands went.

When they were finally naked, Stiles stepped in close, kissed Derek deep and slow, and Derek had the thought that he could do that forever. That he could be content kissing Stiles and nothing else. Slowly, Stiles backed him up against the bed, gently pushing him until he sat on the edge, his lips never leaving Derek’s. Derek leaned back to lay down and Stiles followed him, leaning over him to kiss while his hands stroked up and down his arms, his sides, his chest.

He broke away to run his nose against Derek’s asking him to scoot back, if he had anything specific he wanted to do. And Derek blurted out the last thing he thought he would with a stranger, that he wanted Stiles to finger him, to fuck him, to feel split open around Stiles’s cock. Stiles just grinned, nodded an okay and asked where he kept the lube and condoms.

Derek scrambled over to where his nightstand was and pulled out the items for Stiles. He was nervous and scared, but one look at Stiles, at his warm eyes, his pink lips quirked up in a smile, set him at ease. He rested back on to his pillows, Stiles making sure he was comfortable before he started.

Stiles took his time; he was slow and methodical as he slicked up his fingers, circled one around Derek’s hole until he relaxed, then sliding it in and out. Stiles's mouth roamed over Derek’s jaw and neck and chest while Stiles fingered him. He added a finger, patiently waiting for Derek to get used to the feeling of being stretched more, using his lips on Derek’s to distract him. He mumbled against Derek’s lips if he was okay every so often, if it felt good, if he was comfortable. And for the first time in a long time Derek felt cared for, loved, like he was the most important thing in the world to another person.

How could that be? How could he feel that way? They’d only known each other for going on five hours, it was impossible.

But Derek felt that way all the same.

The sex continued in the same unhurried, intimate manner. Stiles stretched him with three fingers until Derek said he was ready, that he needed Stiles (and in the back of his head he thought that he could mean it in other ways). They were both leaking and hard, and Stiles seemed more than okay with continuing on to the main event. He still took his time though, making sure Derek was alright, relaxed, feeling good when he pushed into him, rocked into him over and over again.

Derek got that same overwhelming feeling again, that this, what he and Stiles were doing was more like making love than it was a random hookup between strangers. They faced each other, Derek clinging on to Stiles, wrapping his legs around his waist, while Stiles held himself above him sliding in and out of his body, hitting that sensitive spot inside him that felt amazing. They kissed, moaning into each other’s mouths, their tongues tangling together.

They were wrapped around each other, sharing breaths, sliding against one another, and when Derek’s orgasm came it was almost a surprise. He had been so focused on how amazing Stiles felt, how it seemed like they had such an intimate connection, how Stiles seemed to know exactly what Derek liked, where to press. It wasn’t long before Stiles joined him in bliss and collapsed on to him, still wrapped around him as their breaths slowly returned to normal.

It seemed like such a long time before Stiles got up, rolled away from him, and Derek had the sudden, panicked thought that, this was it. But he didn’t want it to be it. He wanted Stiles to stay, he didn’t want this to be over. He couldn’t seem to find his words, to open his mouth to tell Stiles not to go. He watched Stiles pad over to the bathroom, heard him open cupboards, turn on the faucet and return with a warm, wet washcloth. Even though he wasn’t leaving just yet, he knew it was only a matter of time, that this was the start of the process of leaving.

Just as he had been before, Stiles gently wiped and cleaned off Derek and himself. Derek pointed to the hamper nearby when Stiles looked unsure of what to do with the washcloth after. After tossing the dirty cloth in the laundry, Stiles hesitated, staring at his own clothes in a pile on the floor.

Derek pulled him by the hand back to the bed, sat up to meet him, to kiss him again. After, he seemed to find his words again.

“Stay with me,” Derek whispers, thinks _cause you’re all I need_ but doesn’t say. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Stiles nods, kisses Derek as he climbs into bed with him. “Okay,” he says as he pulls the covers up over them both, snuggling in next to Derek.

They fall asleep holding hands, pressed up against each other, and Derek thinks, this isn’t love.

At least not yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hello and fangirl with me on [my tumblr](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com) or [my twitter](http://twitter.com/lit_oblivion).


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